


True Love at Last

by ChloeWinchester



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-03-26 08:01:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3843265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChloeWinchester/pseuds/ChloeWinchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle finds the remaining true love potion, discovering a solution to healing Rumplestiltskin's heart. However, if given in full it could have adverse side-effects. In effort to save her husband's heart she decides to try a...creative way to administer it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	True Love at Last

**Author's Note:**

> Based on another prompt given by thestraggletag (tumblr)

Belle turned the little bottle over in her hand. The little drops of pink at the bottom, pure essence of true love her husband had used to bring magic to Storybrooke years ago. So long ago, it seemed. There was still some left, just a little, though. But it...it might be enough. She prayed it would be enough.

And even if it wasn’t, then maybe it would be enough to at least alleviate some of the blackness from his heart.

She couldn’t use all of it at once, it might hurt him, it might change him into someone else entirely, someone she didn’t know. He might forget her, he might forget everything about Storybrooke and his child and...and all the good things woven in with the horrific.

Belle had applied a single drop to her chapstick and watched it glow. She thought it was a bit silly, watching the berry flavored wax glow, but it was the best she could come up with.

The Cadillac parked near Cruella’s now useless car, Belle walked up to the cabin door, and knocked.

“You need to go,” she heard Rumple say through the door, but not to her.

“But I want to meet her!” A strange voice said.

“Don’t you think you’ve harmed her enough?”

After that growl she heard the back door open and close, and hastily applied the chapstick before Rumplestiltskin opened the door and frowned a little at her.

“Belle, what...what are you doing here?” He asked softly, looking around behind her. “Something the matter with Will? With you?” He pressed, suddenly worried. She smiled a little.

“Just one thing. With, um, my heart,” she said quietly. He stepped closer to her, still dressed head to toe in black and how that worried her, despite how...enticing it might have made him look.

“What, what’s wrong? Are you hurt, what-”

Belle took his hand and placed it on her chest. “It belongs to you.”

He looked at her, skeptical, searching her face and feeling the rhythmic beat under his fingers. “You…?” He shook his head a little, letting out a quiet breath of a laugh. Belle’s heart sped when he smiled. “Is...that why you came here?”

“No,” she said quietly. “Not the only reason I...I want to help.” She pressed her hand against the breast of his jacket, over his heart.

“How?” He asked, confused, staring at her hand in pure disbelief.

“With some magic,” she said quietly. “And...hopefully some luck.”

Belle tangled her fingers into his hair, her free hand cupping his chin and guiding him to her lips. A spark, stronger than usual, jolted through the both of them. Rumplestiltskin fell back into the doorway, gripping her waist tight, fingers digging into her back and pressing her flush against him.

His chest ached, but it felt...good. One rough breath and the weight was less. He kissed her again, feeling the magic on her lips, the sweet, pink candy of them now sweetened with something purifying, something that made his soul lighter.

He looked down at her, his lips tingling. “Belle, what did you do?” He whispered. She shook her head, holding his face and smiling at him.

“Kiss me again,” she urged. “It’s working.”

He’d denied her that request once and it was the second worst decision he’d ever made. He wouldn’t repeat it.

She grabbed his lapels and pulled him into the cabin. He followed her, shutting the door with a wave of his hand.

Wrapped around each other like this, gasping with the warmth from the fireplace it was desperation they hadn’t experienced in such a long time.

Her coat fell to the ground, and his followed. Her hands splayed over his broad chest and she looked up at him with sparkling eyes filled with so much love. Such...innocent love from the purest heart he’d ever held. The bright pink glow and warmth from it was more comforting than the fire in the hearth and he would do whatever he could to nurture that again. If she wanted him to.

“Rumple…”

She slid the tie from his throat. He tugged the blouse from where it was tucked into her skirt. Buttons came open under her hands and she sealed her mouth against his neck, tasting his pulse with his soft hair brushing against her cheek.

He gasped quietly, losing his breath at her gentle touches, his hands sliding hesitantly under the hem of her shirt, caressing her skin. So soft and warm, such delicate sweetness under the rough and bitter hands of the monster that he was. The atrocities committed with these hands… And Belle leaned into them as if they were havens in their own right.

Rumplestiltskin pressed his cheek against hers as she kissed and sucked softly at his neck, that magic pulsing through him so readily. The black heart in his chest skipped another beat and throbbed with intense heat that chased away the darkness.

He gripped her a little tighter, praying this wasn’t a dream. Praying, praying that he got to keep her here and his mind wasn’t capable of being so cruel.

“Belle-”

The back door opened and he pulled her close, turning so she was covered, a murderous look in his eyes as the Author stumbled back in. “It- Oh, I’m sorry, um. The Savior…”

Rumplestiltskin cursed, and Belle knew when his body tensed and his hands lost their passion that she’d lost him. For the moment.

“Get out, I’ll be there in a moment.”

Isaac gave Belle a little smile and left hurriedly under Rumplestiltskin’s piercing black glare.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, turning back to Belle. “I… I have to-”

“You don’t,” she implored, holding his face. “You can stay with me.”

He pressed his forehead to hers, pained. “I… I really can’t-”

“Why?” She asked, thumbing his jaw. “Why can’t you stay? Here… with me.” He kept his eyes closed. He couldn’t deny her, not if he looked at her but right now…

“Belle, if I don’t… If I don’t something bad is going to happen. Something very bad, I don’t have a choice. You believe that, don’t you?” He asked, touching her chin, eyes starting to glisten. Belle’s matched, not sure, so confused.

“Yes,” she breathed. Her hands fell. “I’m coming back.”

“Please do,” he begged, shutting his eyes briefly. “Please, Belle, I beg you...come back.”

She pulled her coat back on and brushed her fingers against his cheek. “Is… someone going to hurt you? If you don’t…” Fear sparked in Rumplestiltskin’s eyes, and she fought not to hold him again.

“Yes,” he admitted. “Please, my love, hurry before things get dangerous.”

She reluctantly pulled away, ignoring the yearning thrumming through her. She had maybe two drops of the potion left, maybe. But next time… Things would be different.

~*~

His hands dug into the cushion of the couch, Belle perched in his lap and attached to his throat. Again, the moment they’d kissed when she arrived sent shocks through his body, enough this time to make him collapse to his knees and she’d followed him, cupped his face and helped him stand again.

He was arched on the sofa now, his breath stuttering with each new bite and suck his eager wife left to his skin. No interruptions this time, nothing to break them apart.

The longing for their closeness could be tasted in their air, their heated gasps for air, ghosting against the other’s skin.

Belle looked down at him, caressing his cheek, brushing her thumb against the bruises she’d left on his neck. A tiny smirk bloomed on her swollen lips.

He closed his eyes and pressed into her hand with a soft little whine caught in the back of his throat. Again she’d gotten each layer open, tie and jacket lost to the wind, her blouse hanging off her shoulders and only held on by her waist and the hindrance of her elbows.

Now he was writhing, sweating and groaning for her with his shirt and waistcoat open. Belle’s soft, small hands traveled his skin, her knee pressing between her legs and rutting, teasing, coaxing him so slowly.

Rumplestiltskin’s body hitched, his breath catching. She took his face in her hands and guided him closer so she could push the shirt from his body.

He leaned into her lips, followed her guiding hands as if life’s elixir were held in her eyes, as if she were a creature to be awed and worshipped.

She sat up a little more, hugging him a moment. He closed his eyes in relish, savoring this sweet warmth, this velvet of her body.

He turned his face into her chest, gliding his nose up her sternum to make her shiver. He reached her breasts and immediately turned his mouth on them, his hands skimming up the back of her thighs to tease her skin with the lightest of touches.

Belle whimpered quietly, his teeth and lips lavishing her breasts with attention through the thin lace. She trembled when those careful fingers eased the straps of her bra down, the fabric sliding down to bare her torso entirely, and again he pressed his face into that warmth again.

“Rumple!”

His hips slowly canted against her thigh, lips trailing down her chest, drowning in her delicate skin, in such sweet softness. The taste of her lingering on his tongue in the most exquisite way.

Belle watched him, smoothing his hair back, the faint light of the evening fading and fading behind the trees, leaving nothing but the fire to illuminate his face.

He looked up at her, his eyes made so bright by the warm glow, colors dancing in their depths. She smiled at him, brushing his hair from his face so she could see him more clearly, her skin ablaze with pure desire.

But there was pain in his eyes, and he was shaking his head. “Belle...I...I can’t,” he whispered. “I can’t, I’m not, I’m…”

She sat back, so they were eye level once more. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” She whispered, looking into his dark eyes. “Oh, Rumple, what’s the matter? Did I- did I hurt you-?”

“No,” he assured, not looking at her. “I’m not...worth this, Belle. I don’t deserve it. I’m not worthy of this, of you. Of what you’re trying to do. I deserve… death. Or something like it, that’s why I let you go. I let you go because I didn’t think I was going to make it. I don’t want to be that monster, Belle, I’ll kill myself before I let that happen but I can’t… I can’t accept this, I…”

He bowed his head, broad shoulders drooped in and shaking as he wept.

Vulnerable as they were, Belle understood. She pulled him close, wrapping her arms and the quilt on the sofa around their shoulders, covering them, warm and pressed close.

“I forgive you,” she breathed into his ear. He sobbed harder, holding her. “Shh…shh, Rumple, it’s alright. It’s alright, shh.”

She held him, her lips pressed to the top of his head so gently, so carefully. She rocked him, holding him tight, protecting him. “Shh…You are worthy of me, Rumple. Of love. You deserve love, you deserve me. I know...I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s true. It’s true.”

They stayed there until dawn, well after the the fire had gone out and they clung to each other to ease any chill. All she did was hold him. Neither slept, but in the drowsy gray dawn, wrapped up together and pressed so close, sleep didn’t come to mind. The closeness, the beauty of the moment did. And it’s what mattered. Rumple felt his heart lighten again.

“I’ll be back again,” she promised. Asking him to come with her when Zelena was lurking around Storybrooke was a dangerous endeavor she didn’t want to risk.

“Tonight?” He asked, his voice rough and hopeful.

She smiled at him. “Of course.”

~*~

A single drop was all that remained in the bottle.

Belle turned it over in her hands, watching it shimmer in the light coming through the front of the shop. She smiled softly. In just a few hours she would, she would use this to save him. To rescue Rumplestiltskin from the blackness invading his heart, to break his curse and free him. Finally.

The bell sounded and she looked up, smiling gently at Killian, concealing the bottle into her hand.

“Something I can help you with, Captain?” She asked brightly, unable to keep herself from smiling.

Until he was pointing a gun in her face.

She should’ve noted the danger and desperation about him the moment he walked in but she’d been distracted. Her eyes darkened and her jaw wound until it clenched, anger filling her immediately. “What the hell are you doing?”

“What I have to to save Emma,” he growled. “Give me that.” He jerked the muzzle toward the bottle. She slid her hand behind the counter.

“Fuck you,” she spat. Dealing with this again, again! Three times it’s been now.

He took a rough step forward and pressed the muzzle between her eyes, hard. “I’m not asking twice.”

“You can’t have it, I need it,” she pressed. “If I can save Rumple-”

He laughed, shaking his head. “You’re still under that delusion? That beast cannot be saved. He is a monster, an irredeemable, foul man and he deserves whatever he’s going to get.”

“And what do you deserve, then?” She demanded, not backing down, not giving in, not for a moment. “You deserve it? This? You deserve your happy ending and he doesn’t? You think he’s so horrible but you’re the pissant that left Baelfire without a mother and threatened a defenseless man! You’re a wretched, petty, jealous, weakling. And you don’t deserve forgiveness, even if you’ve never been made to ask for it.”

The gun was slammed against her temple and the world went fuzzy. The edges darkened, and she fell, the bottle left on the counter.

Head throbbing and bleeding, Belle reached up, even after she heard the door close. Killian was gone, he took it. He took…

Darkness pulled her under, a tear left on her cheek.

She wouldn’t be his hero after all.

~*~

It was well past dark, and he was starting to worry she’d changed her mind. That she didn’t want to see him, didn’t want to help him… He wouldn’t blame her for a moment.

Perhaps something happened and she couldn’t slip away. It wasn’t as if she could announce to anyone that she was coming to meet him here.

But the hissing voices scraping at the back of his mind would only let him hear the worst of it.

He nearly ran when he heard the knock at the door, the smile on his face disappearing when he saw Belle.

Her face was wet from crying, a bruise on her head, blood cleaned away but someone had hurt her. “Rumple, I’m sorry,” she whispered, falling into his arms. “I failed, I failed…”

“What- Who did this to you? Belle, who hurt you?” He urged, cupping her face and lifting her chin. “Who hurt you? What happened?”

“K-Killian took the last of it,” she whispered. “The...the vial of true love-” He’d guessed as much. “-there was only a little left. I’d...been using it in small doses, cause too much could have hurt you and...He took it. For him and Emma, I told him I needed it and he was a bastard for doing this.” She touched the bruise a little. “I don’t care that he hit me, I care that I couldn’t…”

He was torn between the black, tarring rage he felt and his desire to soothe Belle’s worry. The latter won out.

“Belle, hey,” he whispered, cupping her cheek. “We...we can find another way. Perhaps what...what I’m doing with the Author really will help us. I...I have to try. For you. You’ve already done so much, cured so much darkness, Belle. It...it’s going to be alright.”

She stared up at him, her breath catching in her throat a little, cupping his cheek. “Maybe…”

His brows rose in question. “Maybe what?”

It worked before. Long, long ago and they’d kissed since then, but...maybe the intent is what mattered, not...not just the kiss itself.

Belle straightened up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a slow, warm kiss, with just as much desire to help him, free him, heal him, as she’d had the very first moment their lips had touched.

Rumple groaned in soft surprise, his hands gently touching her waist. Oh, his chest hurt and it was so hard to breathe, hard to feel the beating there and hope it was steadying. It was like before, but even that wasn’t as strong as this feeling. This pure, flowing light that poured from Belle’s lips directly into his soul, into the darkness dwelling inside of him so long clung to his bones. The purity of this, of her sweet touch, her sweet, sweet light cast it out.

“Belle,” he whispered, looking at her. No magic this time, no help. Just...just their love for each other. True love.

He scooped her into his arms, his lips, grazing along her jaw in a desperate, primal want to keep her close, to never stop touching her, to keep the light inside of him. He lied her down on the bed in his room, hesitating for fear it wouldn’t be the same before he kissed her once more.

Belle sealed their mouths together with a desperate grunt. She braided fingers into his hair and forced him closer, groaning quietly.

Never breaking contact for more than a moment, whether it be kisses to the mouth, the bruise on her head, soft nuzzles, cheeks pressing together and ghosted touches to necks, they stripped each other.

Each plane of skin Belle revealed was touched with the need of a woman dying of thirst, his kisses to the ivory silk under his mouth of a man starved.

Belle kissed him again, her cheeks and the crests of her breasts pinked, straddling him between her delicate legs. She laced their hands together, kissing his fingers, pressing her cheek to his wedding ring with an almost pained expression on her face.

Rumplestiltskin was dizzy from bliss, so caught up in her, in the air of adoration and love she bestowed on him. His body thrummed with desire, with pleasure. Each touch of her hands was a searing pulse that jolted his breath, stuttered his lungs and forced his eyes to close. Too much, she was too much.

His body that had been so battered, so exposed, like a purpling bruise now felt soothed, but ablaze. Each suck to his neck, each sweet caress of her tongue on his chest and how her careful hands traced the V of his groin made him whimper and nearly sob with the pleasure she exuded.

“Belle!” He choked, nails biting into the mattress. She slid all around his body, she scratched lightly at the inside of his thighs, little moans and whimpers coming from her in breathy gasps. He looked down at her, watched her eyes nearly glow in the dim light of the room.

She settled in his lap, held his length in a caring hand and said his name on the sweetest breath of a whisper. Belle settled over him and he sat up, to press into her as deeply as he could. That sweetness, that refreshing breath that swelled into him like...like magic. Pure...pure light magic from this beautiful woman.

He wrapped his arms around her back and started to thrust into her. Her nails dug into his shoulders and she moaned his name. She rocked in a steady rhythm, the relief  of the pleasure making her shake.

He held her close to keep her from rattling together. Sweat mingled together, moans lost against comforters and skin. He snapped his hips into her, striking a spot inside of her that made her cry out his name.

“Oh, Belle… Sweet Belle… my Belle…” He gasped into her hair, inhaling that sweet honey scent of her as he moved. They trembled together, harsh breaths and cries for each other making music with the creaking of the mattress.

Belle arched her back and called his name again, legs wrapped around him, urging him faster, deeper… She pleaded for it aloud on a desperate sob and he had to cling to her again.

Overwhelming… it was all so overwhelming. The passions flowing from The Dark One were so much more intense, burning and stinging but still so good, so wonderful to bask in the wet heat of him. Drowning in warm water, sucked underneath the surface and succumbing to the sweet and comforting warmth that awaited her there. She was happy to lose herself in this moment. Forever, if need be.

“I love you, Rumplestiltskin,” she whispered, dragging her teeth over his earlobe.

Another sharp cry from him, his hips spiking into her roughly.

“I love you too, I love you… I love you…”

Nails down spines, sweat shared together, the heat from each other suffocating in the most delightful of ways.

“Belle, I’m…” He shuddered. Oh, he’d never felt so good, never felt so free, so without...without any reservations, any fear.

Rumplestiltskin was no longer afraid, and that gift from her alone was enough. Oh, it was enough…

Belle slid her tongue into his lips, kissing him breathless and rocking faster, urging him. She shook as he matched her, that spot hit just right again and again she screamed.

She called for him, called for this sweet ecstasy to peak, for the magic to complete itself. She could feel it. Just on the cusp of that beautiful gift of true love. Their love. As it had always been.

He looked at her, his eyes so clear, so filled with love. His fingers brushed against her bruise again, as if that was to heal along with him.

Belle pushed their foreheads together, unable to stop shaking herself. “Rumple,” she breathed. “C-come.”

He kissed her with every ounce of love he had, and she returned it, tears sliding down their cheeks in the sweetest of happinesses, both nearly screaming with their releases that followed each other in perfect time of this dance they shared.  

Light, that brewing light between them finally burst and jolted from them, spreading out and rippling the world around them. The dagger still in his coat jumped as the name was removed from it entirely.

Gasping, the magic in him turned light, his heart purified finally, Rumplestiltskin smiled. He looked up at Belle with eyes made clear of that demon that plagued him for centuries. He cupped her face, laughing softly.

“Belle?” He breathed. She swallowed, overwhelmed and beaming right back at him.

“Yes?” She said quietly, only able to get that breath of a word out.

“Your bruise healed,” he chuckled.

She started to laugh with him, hugging him, cradling him to her.

Unorthodox as her methods may have been, she did it. She saved him.

Rumplestiltskin was free.

 


End file.
